Jimmy’s daddy was about six or seven. He lived then in an old rotted house that leaned slightly to the right, a two-story dogtrot of unpainted boards on the sides and rusted tin on the roof. His daddy was already bad to drink and he was sometimes dangerous to be around because he was likely to hit if you did something that made him mad. Jimmy’s daddy didn’t want to get up on the stump that day because he was afraid something would happen, like maybe getting hit. The stump was in the backyard by the cistern where they caught rainwater and the stump stuck up six or seven feet high, and it had been left from where some men had sawed it off after a storm came through and tore off most of the big elm’s limbs.
He didn’t want to get up there, but he did because his daddy told him to. His daddy was standing beside the stump and he was holding a pint bottle of whisky in his hand. Jimmy’s daddy climbed not easily up on the stump and then he stood there. His daddy had his arms open, one hand holding the whisky.
“Jump to me, son,” he said.
“Jump?” Jimmy’s daddy said.
“Jump,” his daddy said.
Jimmy’s daddy stood there and thought about it. What if he jumped and his daddy moved? But surely his daddy wouldn’t move. Would he? He was going to catch him, wasn’t he? But what if he hit him in the head with that whisky bottle when he caught him? That wasn’t going to feel too good. What if it broke?
“Jump,” his daddy said.
Jimmy’s daddy stood there. He wanted to jump. He didn’t want to jump. He knew he was going to have to jump, but that didn’t make it any easier. He didn’t want to get hit in the head with that whisky bottle. And he didn’t want to get a whipping for not jumping. He tried to avoid whippings at all cost because his daddy sometimes went a little crazy when he was whipping him and it was like he lost control of himself for a few minutes and it turned into a beating.
“You gonna catch me?” Jimmy’s daddy asked his daddy on that day so long ago.
“Jump to me, son,” his daddy said again.
Jimmy’s daddy was six or seven. His mother sewed patches on his pants because they couldn’t afford new pants for him. He got shoes only when he completely wore out the ones he had. He was sneaking butts out of his mother’s ashtrays already. And he was more afraid of his daddy than anything else in the world. So he jumped. And his daddy moved out of the way.
Jimmy’s daddy hit the ground hard. He landed on his chest and it knocked the breath out of him and he hurt his arm. He hurt his arm so badly that he started crying. He looked up at his daddy and his daddy told him something. His daddy told him: “There. Now that’ll teach you not to trust nobody.”